Fall of America
by tAcOfAiL13
Summary: Young America goes with England to play down by a stream on a sunny day, neither of them expecting anything to go wrong. But when it does, England is left alone to wonder how he could live on knowing it's all his fault.


**Author's note: *Well... I wrote this after listening to a song called, "Yellow Butterfly". It's very depressing but it made me come up with something like this so I guess I have to thank the people who wrote it :) Anyway, this is my first fic and my first Hetalia fic, so don't go flaming me, okay? I say it sucks but my friends kept urging me to post it so.. Here it is.. :P**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or "Yellow Butterfly" If i owned the song it would suck so bad your ears bled. And if I owned Hetalia it would be filled with lots of terrible yaoi and messed up situations. So count yourself lucky :D**

** Fall of America**

Today is going to be perfect! Eland brought me all the way out here to look for flowers and bunnies. I can't wait to see him smile when he sees the flower I found for him! ,

America thought, happiness surging through his small body. England, giving America a treat for his excellent behavior at the dinner party they attended the other night, had suggested to America that they go for a walk to the stream out in the woods. America had been thrilled to hear this, jumping up and down smiling and telling England how much he loved him.  
>And now they were strolling by the creek, hand in and as America tried pulling England along, his speed not to the liking of America. Today America was trying to be as good as possible, not running off or causing any trouble. Finally, when they'd stopped to admire a bundle of flowers America looked up at England innocently yet mischievously, and asked him to turn around for a moment. The Empire obliged, unable to say no to that sweet little face or those big blue eyes that reflected the boy's skies so vibrantly. He turned his back as he heard America run off, hoping he didn't get himself into too much trouble.<br>The daffodils that surrounded them were dazzling and they instantly made the young empire relax, his shoulders slackening and his face smoothing out the worry lines. Today was a day for fun, and being able to lay back and feel the sun on his hay colored hair. But, behind him something happened. He heard a scream, a splash, and then silence. Eyes wide with fear, he turned his head and saw nothing. No little blond head looking for flowers, no smiling face waiting with arms wide open to give him a hug, no sweet face to say "I love you." His mouth opened in a silent shout, hopelessly calling "America", knowing no one would answer. Panic filled his head and he ran over to the water's edge, looking deep into its shadows for any sign of his little angel.  
>His eyes filled with tears and he realized he loved the boy more than he had any other country he raised, pain shooting through his chest and anxiety cramping his stomach. <em>He's gone.. He's really gone….<em> The tears flowed down his cheeks in rivulets, obscuring his vision. There was nothing left here, he couldn't find the child, couldn't see him, wasn't able to swim to his rescue.  
>He'd promised America he would protect him from every monster, every bad guy in the world. But he wasn't able to protect him from a measly creek. It hurt. No more than hurt, the pain was so excruciating it felt as if his heart would come out of his chest an leave a big gaping hole in its wake. Tears fell to the green grass below him, not fazed by the fact that's its soul embodiment was gone, dead. The wind still blew, the trees still creaked, and the animals still thrived. But England felt as if he couldn't go on, like his legs were stone and he could no longer move them, feel them. He was infuriated at the land that lived around him; he wanted it dead, all of it dead because America was dead.<br>He didn't understand how the New World could keep on living when the only thing that could possibly keep it going was dead. Washed away by a river. Life sucked away by a rolling current, pulling his soul along with it. England's vision blurred and he sobbed, hugging himself, curling into a ball to hide from the pain, the guilt, the sorrow for a little boy who never had a chance. A little boy who hugged rabbits, said 'I love you' every night to England, and loved to chase butterflies around big open fields. His content laughter would flow through the air, traveling into the woods and awakening the trees and the animals that called it home. But now that laugh would never reach the air again, it would never leave small pink lips. England would never get to hear him laugh, sing, or complain.. England looked up at the blue skies.  
><em>Just like his sapphire eyes.<br>_The tears flowed freely down his face and England screamed, the name echoing around the clearing, into the woods, and then dissolving into nothing…..  
><em>I can still hear that scream,<br>it's still lingering in the air  
>everywhere….<br>Grab my hand  
>I can't I can't…..<em>

**End note: *So I guess I am supposed to tell you to comment and all that? Well, please do and don't flame. I already know how much it sucks, you don't have to rub it in more. Bye bye, hope you didn't think it was to bad :D~**


End file.
